


Counting Moons

by kyatt



Series: Counting Moons [1]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Cheating, Courtship, First Love, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Infidelity, Jealousy, Lamen grew up as friends, M/M, Maybe not that much fluff, Melodrama, OCs exist only to drive the plot don't worry, Royalty, The events in CP did not happen, Vere and Akielos are at peace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28704069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyatt/pseuds/kyatt
Summary: “How can I resist? You are the very object of affection of my most loyal friend—”Laurent’s gaze detached from her face and looked to the other side where the only other person in the garden was standing. Damen stepped closer to meet them.“—Damianos,” said Laurent, holding out an arm.“Laurent,” said Damen with a nod.They clasped their arms together and pulled each other into a brief embrace.“I must not keep you any longer from spending this agreeable afternoon with your family.”--------------------------------Damen did court Laurent with all the grace and courtesy that he deserved. But then Damen married someone else.
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Series: Counting Moons [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156505
Comments: 16
Kudos: 79





	Counting Moons

“Prince Laurent.” 

The small body had jumped when his voice had suddenly disturbed the serenity of the night, the swinging legs freezing mid-air. 

“I apologize if I’m intruding, but your brother—Prince Auguste—is looking for you.”

“Prince Damianos.”

He had sounded relieved. Intrigued, Damen had approached the younger boy sitting by a fountain in a distant extension of the gardens in the summer palace of Akielos, next to an oil lamp he’d seemed to have carried with him, a book spread on his lap.

“What is this tale about?”

“A fox which is trapped in a well.”

“Oh, what does it do to get itself out, then?”

“It tries to trick a wolf into jumping into the other bucket so as to aid its own escape—all by telling the wolf that the reflection of the moon in the water is a piece of cheese!”

They both laughed at the absurdity of the story. 

“Did you know, that one can tell the passing of days just by looking at the moon?”

Damen had volunteered with his progressing Veretian and the knowledge he’d learnt during a lesson in Ios not long ago, thinking it might impress his very young audience.

“You see, the shape of the moon changes every night in a pattern. For it to complete a cycle and return to the same shape again, one only needs to wait—”

“About a month.”

Surprised, Damen had turned his gaze back from the sky to look down. Young Prince Laurent had had the clearest blue eyes he’d ever seen, and a mind more accomplished than any boys of nine years he’d met.

“You leave for Arles tomorrow. Yet, the next grand festival in Akielos is not far from now and we shall gather again soon. It will be after—”

“The third full moon, from tonight.”

Although Damen had returned a genuine smile at Prince Laurent’s clever response, his face must have looked strange, for Prince Laurent had seemed taken aback for an instant, a nervous blush climbing up his cheeks. He’d looked up at Damen with a timid smile. 

A fluttering sensation had plagued his stomach. Damen had thought to himself,  _ how extraordinary _ , that Prince Laurent should have a more delicate, lovelier face than that of all of the girls he’d ever before found pretty.

Damen left behind the marble tiles and stepped a sandaled foot onto the gravel path of the sunlit garden. The familiarity of every tree, every pillar, the scent of ripe summer fruits in the sea air, the unchanging sounds of bird-chirping and distant waves surrounded him with peace instantly; this was a place infused with childhood nostalgia and fond memories. 

That some memories made him feel more vulnerable and captivated than others, he would not deny. 

Here was a finely-crafted statue of a mythical figure known for his beauty, and Damen had seen a body infinitely more exquisite, admired it with the touch of his own. At the far end of the garden was an arched hallway leading to an open pool, where he’d enjoyed lazing the late afternoon away, a makeshift awning erected beside it for when his spectator would join him later, a book in his hand. 

His pace hastened as his thoughts were gradually crowded with endless reveries of the summers spent here. Whether it was to escape from them or to hurry to places where they could be better relived, he could not be sure. 

He was twenty-nine, and the ruler of a kingdom. His days of sauntering around with the anticipation of an anxious new lover were long gone.

Still he treaded on impatiently, his heart flying to the place where he knew he had to be. 

Sneaking away from banquets when no one had been looking, Laurent’s small hand in his; reading Damen’s favorite tales of Akielon heroes in the library together, their bodies invigorated by a morning spent in the training arena swinging wooden swords; in the dining hall, at opposite tables, stifled giggles turning into stolen glances met; the first kiss in the garden where it’d all started, Laurent’s eyes asking, starlight reflected in dark blue, “What could this all mean?”

Laurent’s bare shoulders under the sun and the hem of his white chiton; Laurent saying, “Teach me wrestling,” and Damen saying, “No, I don’t want you to be naked in public,” and Laurent saying back, at length, “Then teach me something else, in private,”; Laurent saying his name in different intonations, “Damen, Damen”; Laurent whispering into his ear, “I’ve missed you, every day and night,” his own reddening ears threatening to tint the white flower tucked in his hair; Damen saying, “There’s no need to rush,” his mouth finding the Adam’s apple on his fair neck, a newfound wonder in his body, and Laurent answering, between soft gasps, “I want it to be now, with you,”; Damen saying, on the last day of one of the many reunions, “Write to me, as soon as you arrive,” and Laurent saying, eyes dreamy and lips swollen, “Will you think of me, always?” and Damen saying back in Laurent’s neck, “I can think of nothing else.”

“What if they found us out?”

Laurent had asked with an amused look in his eyes and the afternoon sun on his face, their limbs tangled in the ravaged bedsheets.

“What do we have to fear? You’re only the second son to the king, and I am to be king.”

“What if Auguste found out?”

An ominous silence. Damen had had to pin him down to cut off his giggling with a kiss, but he hadn’t been able to hide his own laugh. 

“Why must you walk so fast?” A child’s voice cried from behind, the noise of rapid patting of a pair of tiny feet on the path nearing.

“When I was your age, my brother was always chasing after me in these gardens. I forgot how to walk slowly when I’m here.”

“How naughty! Mother always tells me I must not run in the palace.”

Damen smiled. He picked a peach hanging low from a nearby branch, checked that it was soft and plump, and handed it to the boy for a bite. Then, he took one himself, and threw the remains of the fruit next to the tree. 

“Now, do you want to race me?”

He said as he watched the child wipe his mouth with the back of his hands, and began to jog a few steps forward in an exaggerated manner.

“Wait—that’s cheating. Father!” 

“Laurent,” Damen had called out, at last seeing the figure of gold, blue and white approaching alongside the grey mare he’d always favored, after hours of mindless searching. 

Laurent had drawn closer, head determinedly turned to the side with his attention on the ground. A pang of agony had hit Damen when Laurent had come close enough for his face to be seen.

“Laurent, talk to me,” he’d implored when Laurent had reached the edge of the stable, an arm’s length between them, and said nothing. “Please.”

“How long have you known?” After a long pause, Laurent had said, the emotions stripped from his voice saturating his red-rimmed eyes.

“Since I sat down with my father after our trip to Patras,” Damen had replied with grave resolute. 

“Eight weeks, and not a word about it in our correspondence.”

“I believe it a matter best addressed face-to-face.”

Laurent had regarded him with a crooked sneer, the burning icy gaze taunting,  _ so, face me _ . He’d only lowered his head before his expression had begun to turn into something else, a tremor overcoming the corner of his mouth.

Damen had had to step forward. And when Laurent had shown no objection, he’d clasped his palms around his arms. Damen had said his name once, softly, and Laurent’s shoulders had begun to shake.

“I’ve  _ always _ been yours. I’ll  _ always _ be yours.” Damen had said, slowly, each word like a weight he’d had to lift with his tongue. And so he had done.

“That’ll be nothing but a lie, in six months.”

He’d wanted to plead; he’d been willing to do anything for Laurent to never speak in an injured voice like this again. His fingers had touched Laurent’s chin, tilting it up. Laurent’s eyes had been shut, golden lashes all clumped up and darkened, his eyelids the color of the red blotches scattering his ashen, tremulous face. The sight had slashed open gashes in him; Damen had made himself look at it.

“I don’t know how to stop this pain, Damen.”

It’d come out like he’d been gasping for air, his choked throat barely managing the sentence. His body, usually poised and graceful, had been trembling all over like a wounded animal in the cold. Damen had pulled him closer gently, it’d felt like pressing skin on shattered glass. He’d pulled him in tighter.

“Say it, if this should be the end.”

There’d been other things on Damen’s mind which he’d wish to say.  _ Forgive me. _ Or,  _ Don’t punish me like this for a responsibility I had not the right to refuse. _ But Damen had been able to say nothing. Laurent had begun to push at his chest, and Damen hadn’t known what better to do. He’d bent down, expecting the resistance, but it’d never come. Laurent’s lips had tasted like water of the Ellosean Sea, into which Damen had been falling, falling and falling.

“Look, it’s Prince Laurent!” his son screamed joyously, and Damen felt as if a lightning just passed through his spine. 

A slender figure emerged from behind the curtain of water flowing down the fountain. It was still wonderful to Damen how the structure had always seemed enormous, much grander in his memories than in reality, the impression frozen on that night years ago.

“Hello, Prince Neo,” said Laurent in pleasantly accented Akielon, smiling, his hands behind his back as he lowered himself a little.

“Can we go play with your horse, as you’ve promised last time?”

“I’m afraid she’s very tired from the journey and would prefer to rest today, but we can bring her apples tomorrow morning—if you can rise early.”

“I rise very early every day, don’t I, Mother?”

A woman’s fine hand reached out from behind to ruffle the curly dark hair of the boy. She was wrapped in an elegant, long carmine dress and approaching them with a demure smile.

“Queen Calista,” said Laurent, bowing his head in greeting.

“Prince Laurent,” said the Queen of Akielos, reciprocating a proper curtsey. “What a delight to see you! Excuse my frivolity—these earrings you don, I’ve never seen such fine design in Akielos. You must soon introduce me to one of your jewel suppliers in Vere.”

“And before I make that introduction, would the Queen care for a necklace from the same supplier? I’ll have someone present it to you before supper.”

She swooned at the kindness of Laurent, and expressed her gratitude for his constant generosity with gifts.

“How can I resist? You are the very object of affection of my most loyal friend—”

Laurent’s gaze detached from her face and looked to the other side where the only other person in the garden was standing. Damen stepped closer to meet them. 

“—Damianos,” said Laurent, holding out an arm. 

“Laurent,” said Damen with a nod.

They clasped their arms together and pulled each other into a brief embrace.

“I must not keep you any longer from spending this agreeable afternoon with your family.”

Laurent said as he directed his eyes to stare at the toes of his boots. He wore a black velvet doublet with golden thread sewn in the seams and a pair of spotless white trousers, a simple circlet crowning his forehead. His hair was longer now, covering most of his neck; he’d tucked it behind the ear on one side. 

Laurent looked up, his bright eyes the color of the sky in Damen’s dreams.

“I shall see you tomorrow at our meeting with my brother, Damianos.”

He said, turning around. 

The small inked dot he’d drawn near his eye and the moonstones dangling from his earlobes said,  _ meet me tonight in my chambers, _ in a language only Damen could read.

Standing next to his wife and his child, Damen watched the golden head drift away, diminish, then vanish completely at the turn into a distant hallway.

“You have no mercy on me at all, have you?” said Damen as he sucked eager kisses at the back of Laurent’s neck, fine ivory wrists restrained on the engraved edge of the thick rosewood bureau by his palms. “This is the furthest possible place from your chambers.”

“Be proud of yourself, you solved the puzzle rather quickly,” Laurent said with a complacent smile as he turned to look at Damen over his shoulder, his eyes glistening with an arch light. 

Damen’s heart swelled with the familiar tenderness arising within him. 

“I could have spent that half hour doing this to you,” said Damen as his hands slipped under the open shirt he had been busy unlacing until just now, feeling every inch of the smooth skin heating up under them. “You’ve taken the last bit of my sanity with you this afternoon. I’ve missed you like a foolish young boy, my love.”

“I… Me too, Damen. It’s been too long,” said Laurent softly. His expression softened as his admission came out as words of truth shared between them. Then, Damen saw the face he’d had on his mind every minute for four full months light up with a sly curve in his lips, and heard, “Can you not just come up with more statutory festivals for your own convenience, as the King?”

“We shall discuss that with your brother.” said Damen, smiling back, the unspoken word  _ tomorrow _ understood between them. 

Now, they kissed each other with a gush of starved passion, craving the other person like a stranded fish needed water. Laurent’s open mouth slid beneath Damen’s as muffled sounds from their throats began to leak between the smacks of lips. After a while, when all of their clothes were abandoned on the floor except for the one white shirt Damen had deliberately left hanging on Laurent’s arms out of preference, Laurent turned around to face him, his body still trapped between Damen and the bureau.

“When was the last time she did this to you?” Laurent began, his hand landing on the part of Damen his long fingers could barely wrap around fully, stroking it slowly and firmly. His face was turned slightly to one side as he lifted up his gaze to meet Damen, the dim lamp in the study mixed with moonlight glowing at the tips of his eyebrows.

“Laurent,” said Damen after a subdued gasp. Then, when Laurent made no response other than tilting his face to the other side, his gaze on him as firm as his grip, Damen gave in, “I can’t recall. It was too long ago.”

Laurent stayed that way for a moment longer, as if debating whether he wanted to hear more. To hear the truth.

“Then how do you alleviate  _ this _ , when we’re apart?” he said, at last.

“Voices in my head,” said Damen. His hands cupping around Laurent’s waist lifted him up effortlessly, laying him on the wooden bureau.

“Voices,” sighed Laurent as he tipped his head back, elongating his neck for Damen to relish. 

“Voices in Veretian,” he whispered behind Laurent’s ear, where a shiver just travelled down. “ _ I want you to put your mouth here, Damen. You keep making me come, oh, mon coeur… _ ”

Laurent’s breath caught audibly. He was now pushed onto the bureau, lifting himself up only with his elbows. The next thing Damen felt was Laurent’s thighs sliding open slowly beneath him, his hand reaching once again for the most desperate part of Damen.

“Put it in, Damen, I want it now,” said Laurent, his voice suddenly thick with want, dark blue eyes brimming with silent yearn. He was shifting closer towards Damen, guiding him to where he desired him to be.

“Wait, we must—” Damen managed as he forced himself to halt. His hand reached out to rummage in the drawer where he knew the bottle would be put away in.

“Why do you think I made you wander about in the palace?” said Laurent as he put his other hand on Damen’s hip and gave a push. He furrowed his brow; a choked sound escaped his mouth. Damen let go, then exhaled long and deeply.

_ What am I to you, Damen? _ Laurent had said with a vicious sneer, spitting blood from the tear inside his mouth and staring back at Damen’s battered face.  _ Some bed boy you can fuck when you feel like it, behind the back of a wife your dying father made you take? _

_ Felicitations on your wedding— _ Laurent had said, gold chains woven in his hair and a ruby on his brow, his beauty an instant center of attention of the grand hall. He’d looked at Damen while everyone else had looked at him, all charming countenance and bright blue eyes, and raised his cup.  _ —Damianos, my dear brother of Akielos. _

_ I tried, Damen. I really tried. _ Laurent had said, slightly deliriously, empty wine jugs scattered around him near a delicately painted wall. He’d spoken again, and Damen’s heart had bled with each word.  _ I ask only for one night, Damen. Will you come with me, my love? _

Damen had stared at the golden hair from behind, felt the steady rise and fall in his arms for hours. At last, Laurent had said,  _ this needs to stop before your child is born, Damen _ . 

“Don’t stop, Damen,” said Laurent before he bit into Damen’s shoulder. The rattle of the bureau was picking up speed and things began to fall off it. Laurent was starting to sound like he was crying, but Damen kept at it as he was bidden. 

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Laurent,” Damen grunted hopelessly, closing his eyes shut as he ground to a halt, letting the synchronized pulsations obliterate all thoughts between them while he stayed in the deep. 

When he opened his eyes again, he suddenly saw all of it. Laurent’s tear-streaked face, and all the things he wished to say but could no longer, written all over his somber eyes. Laurent blinked, and Damen could hear it at the back of his mind, an innocent voice on a summer day when  _ they _ had been enough.  _ What if they found us out? What if we ran away? Would you give it all up for me, Damen? _

“Kiss me,” was all Laurent said, in the end, his beautiful face a little weary. 

So Damen did, and they swallowed all the unasked questions, all the fruitless regrets with a ceaseless, bitter, paralyzing kiss.

“Is everything fine, Damen?” she stirred when Damen came to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Yes, sorry to wake you. I can’t fall asleep.”

She sat up and shifted herself closer to him from behind. She massaged his neck and shoulders for a while, then moved to sit next to him.

“You know, your second child _ — _ six months remain till it sees this world,” she said, gently pulling his hand to touch her abdomen. Then, she led the hand to one of her breasts, veiled by the sheer night gown she wore.

“No, you must be exhausted today,” Damen said softly. He drew back his hand and instead grabbed hers and kissed it. “Get some rest, my queen.

She hummed “yes” and climbed back into bed, next to the vacant side that belonged to Damen.

Damen rubbed his eye sockets with one hand. Removing the hand, he saw via the balcony the ocean water that hugged Akielos _ — _ his kingdom, his birthright. Closing his eyes, he saw a straight-backed figure clad in blue on horseback, impossibly enchanting.

“Which constellation are you looking for in the sky?” she asked, stifling a yawn.

“Nothing. I’m just counting moons.”

**Author's Note:**

> -This is basically just sad!The Summer Palace and a very toxic situation  
> -Laurent is a mess and Damen is lowkey a jerk  
> -The idea started out looking really messy and problematic but HOT when I planned this, I'm not sure if I've managed to achieve that  
> -It all started with a sudden idea of Laurent attending Damen's wedding dressed up REALLY PRETTY, femme fatale style  
> -But then that idea barely made the final cut  
> -I hope the timeline is not too messy!  
> -Sorry for the gratuitous flashbacks, although I do wish that entire fics exist for all these flashbacks I've inserted  
> -Surprisingly I do have a part 2 idea for this AU


End file.
